Jay: How the idea became a part of epistemology

The summer of 1994 my life changed for the better in ways far surpassing all hopes, beauty and creativity. I met a woman of such fantastic beauty, charisma, heart and soul as I never dreamed imaginable. With her help I collected my bearings and set sail in a life with her. Never a looking back. I am the Jay I am today because of that woman and that encounter. I am the best Jay I could be because of that woman and that encounter.

We zipped and zoomed through the exterior into the real and true. It all occured at a horse camp. Horses, open land, trees, community were all the canvas for our art making.

One of the dreams that sprung forth was a camp for inner-city youth. A place for adolescents to touch the ground, sweat and eat the fruits of their labor. One of our dreams from that summer on was also to be in a place were Charis could walk out the back door of her house and see the horses.

Two years ago, Charis and I made a fantastic sojourn together across the Atlantic to Europe. Neither of us had ever been there, and we wanted to explore history, art, wine, food and people. All from a older, experienced place, and a part of our place in history.

We loved the month. My culinary approach, exterior presentation, and pace of lifestyle were all drastically shaken. We began in Rome by meeting our friend Julianne and explored for three days. Everything was huge. From there we continued to be smitten by the glorious Italian art in Florence: people, wine, food, paintings and sculpture. We departed from Julianne and spent two relaxing days in paradise: Cinque Terre.
We trained to Paris, through Avignon. Paris is a gorgous town, so intentional and congruent. After wearing out the bottoms of our shoes in Paris we jumped over to Western Ireland, and heard some of the best live music in Doolin. A quartet that played with passion, joy and drive. I stumbled home amidst the stars on an empty narrow road with blackberries as the border, thinking, "I could die now."
Scotland treated us to my favorite city and an amazing art festival: Edinburgh and the Fringe. Arts galore. From there we spent time with our friend Neal in London: flying over the White Cliffs of Dover, exploring Cantebury, seeing London from high in the eye and imagining Shakespearen plays in the Globe.
But then the trip took a turn to the rattling. All I had seen, heard, tasted was radical, lovely and so refreshing, but Sweden. We ended our four weeks with six days in Nord Stro, Skona. Charis' dad's family grew up there and some family was still there. They live out in the country in a town of an intersection and where the three families are within walking distance. The little girls, Karna and Signa, could run through the pumpkin patch to Olaf and Maryann's to get butter when needed. Being with family and in the country, drastically send my neurons, feelings and conceptions into a new birth. We boarded the train to leave and come home and I kept asking myself why are we not moving here. There was a horse barn for sale just across from the family mill. Why are we leaving here?

Well life got the better of me and it was so great to be back with friends, Portland and Cedar Lodge.

Then last summer we were blessed to be a part of Erik and Elissa's wedding up at Golden Lake. All the Cedarleaf family was there and we had a blast: dancing, drinking, swimming, talking and laughing. As we boarded the plane and came backk to Portland, I again asked myself, "Why are we leaving this?"

That time the question stuck and Charis became proactive. Chris and Becca came out to visit not five weeks later and we sprung them the question on top of Sleeping Beauty in Trout Lake, Washington. The idea blossomed forth in their hearts and minds as well and now here we are in Minneapolis (the stepping stone to the farm).

Is it exciting? Yes, I feel like this is so true and invigorating for my soul. The things I have come to treasure and believe in are all in this move: community, family, giving not taking, non-consumerism, hard-work, knowing where your food comes from, simple living, horses in the back yard and an open-door policy home.

Has this been easy? NO. I miss community in Portland, I miss my job in Portland (everything I believe in educationally is gone - the Cedar Lodge is the best example of teaching I know, and I left that for 120 students, teaching on a cart) and I miss music making and listening in Portland.

I hate that Portland had to be separated from this change, but I dream and hope to keep the people, ideas and sounds of Portland alive in the new farm, to take trips to refuel and pray to have many visitors every year.

Jay